


this night is what we make of it.

by ekoroshia



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: ((as of chapter 3 it is no longer pure unadulterated fluff)), ((courtesy of amami's terrible father)), Alcohol, M/M, or your money back, this fic is pure unadulterated fluff i promise you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-03-11 12:45:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13524537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ekoroshia/pseuds/ekoroshia
Summary: Shuichi is tired, so tired. Of work, of his coworkers. Of solving mysteries and feeling no pride in their solutions.He braves the nightlife of Tokyo alone.Somewhere along the way, he gets the number of a very attractive man who goes by Rantaro, and Shuichi thinks to himself that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to come after all.





	1. how do you make a life out of nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> Older!AU where Shuichi works as a pro detective and Rantaro's just an estranged rich kid trying to get by without relying too much on his parents' money for help.
> 
> This took from 9pm to 6:33am nonstop writing. It is unrestrained self indulgence.
> 
> I had to force myself not to spend at least 500 words on Rantaro's beautiful face every time he's mentioned. Be thankful for the merciful gods. They have spared you this time.
> 
> Also un-betad. Betaed? There was no beta reader.

Shuichi had had what was, frankly, the worst week imaginable. Sure, his detective work had lead to the capture of a well known, formidable serial killer that had been plaguing Tokyo’s streets for the past few years, but the look in the eyes of the criminals he uncovered always bothered him. He always insisted on seeing cases through to the very end, and more often than not was present at the time of arrest.

He had seen countless corpses and victims, and the exposure had gradually rendered him capable of pushing his feelings aside for the sake of conducting an investigation - something he wasn’t proud of, but supposed came with that line of work. But no level of preparation ever steeled his nerves for the moment of arrest, for the hateful, rage-filled gazes of the criminals he had stopped.

Rationally he knew it was silly to let it bother him so much, but he’d always been sensitive to the gazes of others, always wanting to do his best to make his loved ones happy and safe. That was why he’d taken that job in the first place. But that was neither here nor there, right now he didn’t want to think about work.

Clubs weren’t his usual venue of choice for a night of relaxation, but he was so tightly wound at the moment from work stress and the difficulties of living a single life right in the heart of Tokyo that he figured alcohol might be the only thing he hadn’t tried to relax using. He wasn’t looking for a partner for the night, or even simple conversation, though as soon as he stepped through the doors, tucking his ID away as he did so, the wall of loud music and the smell of alcohol hit him. Were it not for the fact that he refused to look weak in front of the bouncers, he would have turned tail and run.

As it happened, though, he took a cautious step into the room, and spotted the bar to his right. There was a sea of people between his destination and his current position though, but Shuichi figured if he kept to the sidelines it would be quicker than trying to tackle such a volume of bodies directly. Thinking this, he moved towards the bar, and quickly found that his assumption was correct - this had been the better course of action. Which was not to say it was easy; picking his way over discarded straws and buckets hadn’t been factored into his initial plan, but it was better than it could have been, he supposed.

 

Once he cleared the mass of people dancing at varying degrees of wasted, Shuichi breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the comforting wood of the bar. It really was impossibly hot now that he thought about it, and even having come in his most casual clothing was proving to be a mistake. Fanning himself lightly with his shirt, he looked up at the display of drinks, but was stopped in his tracks when his eyes met with an amused smirk from the other side of the counter.

“I take it this is your first time here?” Came a deep, almost melodic voice that had the hairs on the back of Shuichi’s neck standing straight. The temperature in the room seemed to have doubled at that, and Shuichi had a sneaking suspicion the flush on his cheeks was only half the result of the heat.

Floundering for the shreds of his composure, he reached up to stabilize his hat and recover his nerves, giving a nervous laugh and responding, “Is it that obvious?”

A low chuckle was his reward, and what a reward it was. The rumble of it seemed to resonate down to the young man’s bones, and he had to clench his fist to stop himself from shivering.

“Maybe not to the other newcomers, but to a guy like me, you stand out somethin’ special” The man explained, seeming to try and soothe Shuichi’s nerves as though he could tell the shorter man had suddenly become self-conscious of his appearance in the club. “Taking the hat off might help your cause though” he supplied with a wink, and Shuichi felt his face burn as he struggled to find a decent response.

In the end he settled for doing as was suggested, and hesitantly removed his cap, that stubborn few strands of hair sticking up as usual. His eyes lowered subconsciously, embarrassed by his appearance, before he heard an appreciative whistle from the man before him. His eyes snapped back up in an instant, and was greeted by what can only be described as the most obvious case of a person checking him out that, to his memory, Shuichi had ever experienced.

Taking this opportunity in stride, Shuichi allowed himself to take in the other man for the first time since encountering him. With green hair that looked both carefully styled and at the same time fresh out of bed, he was dressed in a suit - to be expected, he did work here after all - and had an abundance of piercings that, instead of unnerving Shuichi, only served to make the man more attractive in his eyes. His eyes flitted upwards, to the right eyebrow of this gorgeous stranger, and noticed another piercing there.

 

“Are you done checking me out yet, or do I have to wait to get your name?”

 

Startled, Shuichi’s train of thought was halted where it ran, and he scrambled for an excuse, his pathetic attempts at clearing his name interrupted by a bout of amused laughter. Sheepishly he shifted his weight and rubbed at the back of his neck, “I’m...Shuichi.”

“Pleasure to meet you Shuichi, if we’re doing first names then mine’s Rantaro. Now, how about a drink? This uniform isn’t for nothing” and just like that he - Rantaro - had shifted into the suave professionalism that Shuichi supposed had gotten him this kind of job in the first place. And hell if it wasn’t attractive.

“Ah- uh. I’ve never-... I mean, I’m not sure what to order. Do you...have any recommendations?” Shuichi clenched his fists around his hat, still held close to his chest as a form of comfort and pseudo-protection. He was nervous, and it showed. Casually chatting to Rantaro had been easy enough, but he was out of his element in this club, having never been to one before, and had little experience with drinking in public.

“Hm…” Rantaro hummed, and Shuichi could see he was running through possibilities in his head, “How about a rum and coke, then? Starting light is the best way to go if you’ve never been to a place like this before.”

“Uh...sure, then I’ll have a rum and coke, please.”

A brilliant smile was flashed his way, slightly crooked and a little coy, as though Rantaro knew something he didn’t, but Shuichi was less focused on what that could mean, and more focused on just how this absolute Adonis saw fit to entertain him. Shuichi pulled out the right sum and offered it to Rantaro, who took it and placed the money somewhere beneath the counter on the other side.

Rantaro inclined his head, a small nod of approval, Shuichi supposed, and moved to grab a plastic cup and fill it first with a small amount of the rum, and then making up the rest of the volume with coca cola. Shuichi watched, and it wasn’t until the drink was handed to him that he realised he’d been caught staring again - this time at the metal rings decorating Rantaro’s fingers.

Embarrassed by the knowing glint in the other man’s eyes, Shuichi suppressed a whimper by tentatively sipping on the drink, taking his time before swallowing, to try and get a good feel for the flavour. Clicking his tongue, he gave a satisfied nod before he looked back up at Rantaro, “It’s good. Thank you, Rantaro.”

There it was again, that smile that looked like it had something to hide, and in the space between their words Shuichi found himself wondering how much of a mystery this man really was.

“It’s no problem, Shuichi. Always a pleasure to serve lovely customers like you” and those long eyelashes fluttered down into a smooth wink; if he was honest with himself, Shuichi couldn’t suppress the flood of red that rushed to his cheeks if he tried. Rantaro seemed to have noticed, and gave another little chuckle as Shuichi struggled to compose himself, choosing eventually to stubbornly stare down at the liquid in his cup.

Above him, Rantaro sighed, and Shuichi couldn’t help glancing up to see the taller man looking down at his watch, before looking back at Shuichi apologetically. “Sorry, but would you mind waiting thirty minutes more? We can talk more once I’m off my shift.”

“Oh, of course! Of course, I’d love to- ah- I mean... I’d be happy to wait a little longer” inwardly Shuichi cursed himself for sounding so desperate. He was, of course, but there was no need to let Rantaro see him act like a flustered high school student. It didn’t seem as though he minded though, as Rantaro simply smiled in response, and waved lightly as he bid Shuichi a farewell he promised would only be temporary, and set about attending to the others who had sidled up to the bar in the meantime.

 

With no conversation partner left, Shuichi downed the rest of the drink, finding he rather liked the warmth it brought to him, but resolutely decided not to have another one seeing as he would be spending time with Rantaro very soon, and he couldn’t risk making such a fool of himself. More so than he already had.

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved his cellphone and, flipping it open, was met with a flurry of missed calls and unread texts from his best friend, wondering where he was at this hour. Usually after a big job had reached its conclusion, Shuichi would go to her house, and spend the night there relishing in the comfort of another person’s presence. Kaede was a dear friend, and always welcomed him into her home. As one of the top performing pianists in the country she had secured a pleasant home for herself just outside of Tokyo, and more often than not her girlfriend would be around as well.

Maki was a difficult one to crack, but Shuichi figured she liked him well enough, according to Kaede she was very quick to make people know when she disliked them, and seeing as he hadn’t been dismissed in that way yet, Shuichi took that as approval. Laughing lightly to himself as he read over the texts, he quickly typed out that yes he was safe, that yes he was still expecting to be coming round tonight just...a little later than usual. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Kaede to know just yet that he was at a club alone, no less, so he made up an excuse about wanting to clear up a few things at work before he could come over.

Honestly, he felt bad lying to her, but what she didn’t know yet wouldn’t hurt her. Though he realised upon sending the message that when she did in fact find out (and she would, because for all his detective prowess he never could keep a secret from his best friend) he would be in for a lengthy lecture. Shrugging that off as a problem for his future self to deal with, he returned the device to his pocket, and checked the time, noting that he still had around fifteen minutes to kill until Rantaro was free.

He cast his eyes over towards where the man was serving a couple of girls who looked well beyond tipsy, and Shuichi could tell even from this distance and even over the noise that Rantaro was not enjoying their company at all. The handsome half-smile that Shuichi had quickly found himself enjoying just a little more than was appropriate had disappeared, and the corners of Rantaro’s mouth were turned down, his brows furrowed slightly, though it seemed he was trying to be as polite as possible.

Something in Shuichi swelled at the idea that Rantaro had been having much more fun talking to him than he was currently, but that treacherous feeling was very quickly buried and he tore his eyes away. In the back of his mind he noted that Rantaro looked stunning even from the side, and just the thought of such a handsome man taking an interest in someone as plain as him made his heart swell.

Clearing his throat and shaking his head, he temporarily banished those thoughts - _don’t get ahead of yourself Shuichi, he’s just some guy you met at a club_. And as much as it hurt to admit, he was right, Rantaro really was ‘just some guy’ he happened to meet. Yes, he was gorgeous, charming, and honestly the perfect man in Shuichi’s eyes, but that was only from what Shuichi had seen so far. It was perfectly possible that Rantaro would turn out to be someone quite different in reality, that outside the club he would lose that charm and Shuichi would be crushed.

Sensing someone’s eyes on him though, he looked over at the bar again, and was surprised to see that Rantaro was gazing intently at him, a pause stretching between them even from that distance. After a moment Rantaro’s expression warmed, and he sent Shuichi a smile and a small wave before turning back to change the bottles lined up behind him.

Shuichi watched for a moment longer, before looking down at his hat. He turned it over a few times in his hands, before feeling just a tad too exposed in front of all these people, whose eyes he was hyper aware of now that Rantaro wasn’t there to take up residence at the forefront of his thoughts. He returned it to its position on his head, pulling the brim down to cover his eyes as best he could, seeming to shrink into himself as he tried to hide from sight.

 

He wasn’t sure how much time and passed when he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he looked up into the eyes of the man he had been entirely unable to get off his mind since they parted. Rantaro had changed out of his uniform, and now wore what to Shuichi looked very casually fashionable. Loose fabric and that grey-blue was a good compliment to Rantaro’s green hair and eyes, and Shuichi admired briefly the little metal pendant hanging from the man’s neck.

Rantaro chuckled then, and Shuichi could only guess that the reason was silent evaluation of the other man’s new look, and, for the first time Rantaro seemed almost bashful, reaching a hand to nervously rub at the back of his neck, “Not too much of a disappointment now the suit’s gone, I hope.”

“No! No, no not at all. You look...very handsome.” Shuichi breathed the last words and hoped Rantaro hadn’t heard them over the music and the chatter around them, but from the light flush that colored the taller man’s cheeks, he supposed he hadn’t been so lucky. Still, a blush meant something good, right? It meant Rantaro was pleased with the compliment, surely.

“Good, good. C’mon then, this isn’t your kind of scene anyway, but I’d really rather talk somewhere I can hear myself think.” Rantaro said, and to that Shuichi had to agree.

What he wasn’t expecting was a large hand to wrap around his wrist and gently tug him towards a staff exit, and when Shuichi turned a curious look on his companion, Rantaro only gave him a smile and a wink, raising a finger to his lips as though they were keeping a secret between them. Shuichi flushed again, turning his face towards the ground as he allowed himself to be lead through the door and into a much quieter, much colder hallway.

Rantaro lead him expertly through the hallways, and eventually they reached the outside world again. It was at this point that Rantaro released Shuichi’s wrist, and they came to a stop at last.

Shuichi, now outside and feeling considerably less heated than before, took a deep breath and exhaled, watching the puff of his breath against the cold night air. They were just off the main street, the noises of the nightlife not far behind them, but not so loud that it was all-consuming as it had been in the club.

“So Shuichi, you never did tell me what a nice lookin’ guy like you was doing in a club like that.” Rantaro fixed him with a level gaze, and for the life of him Shuichi couldn’t decipher the emotion that seemed to lie just beneath the surface of those eyes.

“Ah, well, it’s not a very interesting story I promise you-”

“I want to hear it.” Now that caught Shuichi off-guard. Rantaro was actually interested in hearing about his personal problems? Shuichi had been under the impression that what the other man was interested in was either a partner to warm his bed for the night, or just some idle chit-chat in the late hours.

“You’ve heard it before I’m sure. Work troubles and stress. A colleague suggested trying out a club. I’m only twenty-five but he found out I’d never been before, and encouraged me to go. That place was recommended by the end of the conversation.” It took him a moment to gather himself and respond, but he tried to keep the precise details confidential, not wanting Rantaro to know too much about him - they had only just met, after all.

Rantaro seemed to be satisfied with this account though, and gave Shuichi and encouraging smile once he’d finished talking. An appreciative hum passed his lips, and Shuichi’s eyes were drawn downwards towards Rantaro’s mouth, and he caught himself wondering what they would be like to kiss.

To clear that shameful thought he shrugged and looked away, “It’s nothing unique, or special, so you don’t have to force enthusiasm for it. I-”

“Shuichi let me say this clearly. I’m interested in you. You’re nothing like anyone else who’s walked up to my counter in that club before, out of your element but managing to make it look cute. You’re interesting, and I want to know more. I’m a secretive guy, so it might take a while to get me to talk, but I’m happy to listen if you want me to.” To this Shuichi had no words. His mind was running at a thousand miles an hour and yet he could not comprehend what Rantaro had just said.

“You..you want to talk to me more?” He braved the question, taking care with each word and speaking softly, as if afraid of the answer he might get.

 

Rantaro only smiled.

 

“Yeah. I can’t tell you much about myself at the moment, but I promise, I’m not a bad guy. I’m just a bartender for a sleazy club in Tokyo whose interest has been piqued by a nervous shorty like you. Sound crazy, huh? Let’s start introductions over in any case. My name is Rantaro, I’m twenty-eight and I was born right here in the city.” Rantaro’s eyes were serious, and Shuichi was transfixed. Laughing a little, Rantaro gently nudged Shuichi’s shoulder to prompt a reply.

It successfully jolted Shuichi from his thoughts, and he flushed, hurriedly removing his hat as a gesture of formality before speaking, “Shuichi S- uh. Just Shuichi. I’m twenty-five, and I’m originally from Hokkaido. It’s good to meet you Rantaro.”

Another laugh, and Shuichi swore that every time that low rumbling laughter bubbled up past the taller man’s lips the tightness in his chest grew more intense. Everything about him was charming and mysterious, but his laugh... His laugh made Shuichi’s brain short-circuit and his heart stop.  “Nice to meet’cha. I’d like to get your number, if you’ll let me.”

Shuichi nodded just a little too eagerly, and fumbled to pull out his phone the moment exchanging numbers was mentioned. With shaking fingers he located his own number in the contacts list of his phone, handing it quickly over to Rantaro who punched in the number on his own phone - a sleek touchscreen, far more modern and expensive than Shuichi’s simple flip phone. It took a few seconds, but after he was handed back his phone it sounded in his hands, and he looked down at the screen.

 

**From: Unknown**

_See you soon, Shuichi Saihara. It was great to meet you._

 

Shuichi started, and snapped his eyes back up to stare dumbfounded at Rantaro, “How did you..?”

“For someone as smart as you are, you’d think it’d be a little more obvious that you’re recognizable. You were on the news earlier today, after all.” Rantaro supplied the explanation without further prompting, and his smile as he spoke was gentle and amused, though Shuichi didn’t dare to hope that Rantaro found him even half as attractive as Shuichi found him. “In any case, I should get going, and so should you. We can meet up for coffee another time.”

“Wait!” Shuichi called out, as Rantaro had started to turn as though to walk away. When the man paused and looked back at him, Shuichi played with his fingers hesitantly, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth in an attempt to hide. “What-... Rantaro, what’s your name? Your full name?”

He heard the click of Rantaro’s shoes against the pavement, and it wasn’t until he was close enough to almost feel that Shuichi looked back up at him. Their height difference seemed only to be a few inches - three or four at most, according to Shuichi’s estimations - but at this proximity Rantaro seemed to tower above him. He drew in a sharp breath as he noticed the slight movement that signaled Rantaro was leaning down, and Shuichi quickly shut his eyes tight.

There was only silence for a few minutes, before a hand was gently stroking through his hair, and that deep, soothing voice was close to his ear, “That’s a puzzle for you to figure out yourself, detective.”

Shuichi’s knees felt weak by the time Rantaro finished the sentence, and somewhere along the way his eyes had opened and widened in surprise, staring blankly into the fabric on the shoulder of Rantaro’s shirt. Rantaro’s low chuckle resonated in his ear, and he pressed a kiss to Shuichi’s cheek before drawing back and straightening up again.

His eyes were twinkling, whether from the streetlights overhead or the mirth that danced within them, Shuichi wasn’t sure. What he did know was that not only did this very attractive man know who he was, he seemed to have an equal interest in Shuichi. “I’ll see you around Shuichi. Text me if anything comes up, if you need a shoulder to lean on, or if you just want to hang out.”

Just like that, he was gone, turning on his heel and walking away from Shuichi who stood stiff and trembling slightly. Shakily he moved to place his hat back onto his head, adjusting the brim and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Shuichi turned and headed towards the station to catch the late train to Kaede’s place, his head filled with thoughts of Rantaro, and of what the future could hold.

 

That lecture Kaede would surely give him didn’t seem half as intimidating now.


	2. gentle human.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Shuichi thinks about what he does before he does it.  
> Other times, it's an ungodly hour of the morning and he just wants to talk to the man who's been on his mind since they parted. He can't be held accountable for these things really.

Ah, Shuichi thought from his position on the couch, maybe it hadn’t been worth this lecture after all.

 

Kaede, stood in front of him and pacing from one end of the room to another, was chewing him out for going to such a place alone. Shuichi, wisely, decided that for now he would hold back on mentioning Rantaro’s entrance into his life. He supposed he could pass it off as having forgotten if he mentioned it in a few hours’ time… Or perhaps he should hold off until the next morning...

“Shuichi are you listening? That was so dangerous, you could’ve seriously gotten into trouble out there!” Kaede had snapped her fingers to get his attention, and he jumped at the sudden noise. When his vision refocused on the present, she was leaning down towards him, much like a parent would while scolding their child.

He blankly stared a few moments longer, before Kaede raised a quizzical eyebrow, and Shuichi knew he was caught. “You… Shuichi you met someone, didn’t you?”

To this he shrugged, tugging his hat down over his eyes to hide as much of his expression from view as possible; he was worried if the topic of Rantaro came up he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from thinking about that kiss. But Kaede had always been perceptive, able to read him like a book even with the brim of his cap hiding his eyes.

“You did meet someone! Shuichi you have to tell me everything, what if they recognised you? Do you know how much of a target that’d make you if they were a bad person?” Her voice was worried. Concerned. Shuichi almost felt bad about going out at all, honestly, but then he remembered his conversations with Rantaro, and that guilt almost faded entirely. Of course, he did regret worrying his best friend so much, that much was unavoidable though. Kaede always worried about him… Something to do with his having very few noteworthy self-preservation instincts. Or so she said.

“Alright, I met somebody. And no, he didn’t seem the criminal type. I know criminals, and he didn’t seem like that kind of person. Mysterious, sure, and he seemed to keep a lot of secrets. He gave me his number but not his full name… Mentioned that it was my job as a detective to find out. A test? Maybe, but then why give me his number?” At this point he had begun mumbling to himself, his detective’s brain gearing up for solving this latest mystery.

He paused, bringing out his phone to show Kaede the message Rantaro had sent him, “His name - or at least, the name he gave me - was Rantaro. He knew who I was without me needing to introduce myself properly, and he knew about yesterday’s case. Watching the news was where he recognised me from, or so he said.”

Kaede hummed in thought, her frustration diminished by this and, hearing this lull in tone, Maki entered the room from where she had been waiting in the kitchen for Kaede to finish chewing their friend out.

 

Maki said nothing, but approached Kaede and gently wrapped an arm around the taller girl’s waist as she waited for an explanation or a summary. Shuichi didn’t pay attention to the low hum of her voice as she asked Kaede what was going on, too wrapped up in thoughts of what to do and where to start looking for Rantaro’s true identity.

“Describe him.” Was Maki’s only response to the revelation that Shuichi had met a mystery person that night.

He thought for a moment, trying to bring to the forefront of his mind that memory of Rantaro in his casual clothes, under the streetlight. He’d always prided himself on his ability to recall details - it came in handy in his line of work, and he hoped it’d lend him its aid here.

“Green hair. Wavy, short, and unevenly cut; the left side was longer than the right side, and his eyebrows indicated it wasn’t dye. He stood at around five foot ten, or it could have been at much as five foot eleven. He had… Piercings. I counted five on the right ear, one on his right eyebrow, and one on his left ear, all silver. Lots of rings, too, all of those were silver as well, and a black bracelet on the left wrist.” He hummed as he thought, trying to remember every detail of the man’s appearance.

“His eyes were green, though a different shade to his hair, and he had long eyelashes. His clothes… It might not help, but there was a peculiar pattern on his shirt. It looked close to a spoked wheel, entirely black, and offset by the blue of the striped shirt. That’s all that would be relevant to finding him, I think.”

Maki seemed to process all of this, nodding occasionally as he spoke, but her eyebrow quirked at the mention of the symbol, and she exchanged a look with Kaede. Both girls fixed Shuichi with a curious look he couldn’t quite decipher, until Kaede spoke up again, “Shuichi, could you describe the symbol again? It rings a bell…”

Puzzled, Shuichi nodded, and elaborated upon the design of the symbol that had been boldly printed across the bottom corner of Rantaro’s shirt. When he was finished, the girls looked to one another again, a silent conversation passing between them, before Maki pulled out her phone and began searching for something while Kaede came to sit on the couch next to Shuichi.

 “Shuichi. Was it this?” Maki held the phone up to him, and there on the screen was an exact print of the symbol he’d identified. He said nothing, simply nodded, waiting for the conclusion of this find to reach him. Maki and Kaede sighed in unison, and Maki returned the phone to her pocket as Kaede voiced whatever deductions they had made.

“That symbol belongs to the Amami family. They’re wealthy, very wealthy, and they live in the upper class areas. In the penthouses, the ones even Maki and I can’t afford. If I remember right they made their fortune the same way Togami Co. did, business and travel was their specialty. It’s said that there’s not a country on Earth that they haven’t been to.”

As he listened, Shuichi found he wasn’t half as surprised by this information as he should have been. He nodded when Kaede had finished her explanation, and thought on it for a short while, turning the pieces over in his head and examining each detail. After meticulously comparing the man he’d met to this new set of puzzle pieces, slotting them in and testing them, trying to see if there was a contradiction anywhere. When he found none, he turned back to Kaede.

“Do we have knowledge of the family members? Their children, specifically. Rantaro wouldn’t have taken that job if he had a company to oversee, or a high position. He must not be an only child, else he would have had a responsibility to stay in that line of business.” He mused, raising a finger to his lips as he puzzled through it all.

It was Maki who answered this time, providing him with the knowledge that while it wasn’t public information the identities of every Amami child (though it was commonly understood that there were at least thirteen children in that family - the result of a serially adulterous father, or so the rumor went) there were a few facts known. The first was that while it was known that there were twelve daughters to the family, the number of sons was disputed. The thirteenth child publicly known about, however, was the youngest son. His name was unknown, but he seemed to have a reputation for defying the rules of his family in favor of caring for his sisters.

It was that in particular that made Shuichi pause, and Maki halted her explanation in favour of watching Shuichi closely. He examined the reputation aspect closely. If this youngest son had a tendency to disobey his family’s rules, and if indeed Rantaro was a member of that household, it would be perfectly logical for him to have taken such a job as an act of rebellion.

He motioned for Maki to continue, and only half listened to the rest of the facts, trying to fit together the pieces of the ever shifting puzzle that had become Rantaro.

 

Shuichi spent the next few minutes in silence, and it took Kaede insistently snapping her fingers in front of him to get him to acknowledge that Maki had finished talking. Thanking her and Kaede, he made an excuse about feeling tired, and retired to the guest room he always stayed in during these visits.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Maki giving him as close to a concerned look as he’d ever seen on her. Deciding he was too tired to think too much of it though, he pushed open the door to the bedroom and, closing it behind him, immediately pulled out his phone.

He must have stared at that single text Rantaro had sent him earlier for at least ten minutes consecutively, because before he realised it the clock had struck another hour, and he was still leaning against the door.

Musing would do no good, and surely he would be better equipped to think things over after a night’s rest, so he changed and settled into bed.

The minutes became hours, and he tossed and turned, trying to find a period of peace in which to finally rest. It hadn’t been a particularly long night, not compared to some of the absurd hours he pulled at work trying to solve a case, but it was still draining. Much had happened, and Shuichi wasn’t exactly known for his ability to combat over-stimulation.

In the end, he decided it was no use, and his fingers found his phone in the darkened space. Unlocking it, he was met with the still-open text from Rantaro, and paused. He could, if he wanted, try and text him right then. Nothing too detailed, maybe a simple ‘I couldn’t sleep, did you get home safe?’ Or something to that effect.

 

It wouldn’t hurt, he supposed.

 

So he typed out a message and fired it off, letting his hands fall back on his chest and sighing. All this for a man he’d only just met. All this worry over a man he didn’t know the name of. Sure, he had a hunch, but since when did Shuichi ever trust his gut.

His train of self-loathing thoughts were cut short by the familiar ping of a new message, and he raised his phone to check (he tried very hard to ignore how quickly he’d moved to react - it wasn’t as though he was eager. Of course not.).

 

**From: Unknown**  
_You can’t sleep? Me neither. You got home safe tho right?_

 

Shuichi pondered this for a moment. He wasn’t one to psychoanalyze the way people texted, but the mix of casual abbreviation and proper punctuation seemed to fit Rantaro. Or at least, seemed to fit the man he’d met. Whose name may or may not be Rantaro Amami - that was still up for debate. He supposed if they were to talk he should add the man’s number though, and spent a few seconds fiddling with his contacts to do the job.

 

**To: Mysterious Rantaro  
** _Yes, thank you. I’m staying with a friend tonight. Did you get home safe?_

**From: Mysterious Rantaro  
** _Haha, yeah. Say, Mr. Detective, are you free tomorrow?_

 

He thought on that for a moment. Technically, he wasn’t free. But it was out of office time, and so he could work from home. Conceivably, he had enough hours in the day to get away with saying that yes he was free, though the likelihood of him actually being willing to part with his workload was another matter entirely. He hesitated a while longer, and then responded in kind.

 

**To: Mysterious Rantaro  
** _I am. Why?_

**From: Mysterious Rantaro  
** _Oh nothin. Wondering if you wanted to hang out at all._

_Ykno there’s this real nice cafe down the road from the club,  go there sometimes to unwind._

_It opens til late so if you wanna spend the daylight pouring over your work I figure that’d be just fine too._

 

A cafe...Shuichi wasn’t sure he knew of the place, but with what little he’d seen already, he held a degree of confidence in the fact that he might be able to trust Rantaro’s judgement. Considering Rantaro had been a good enough judge of character to be able to identify that Shuichi was much more at ease away from the bright lights and deafening music spoke of something promising. Though, then again, Shuichi supposed anyone would have been able to tell he didn't fit in, that he didn't look particularly at home or at ease anywhere near that crowd.

He was a detective, not a partier, that much was certain.

 

**To: Mysterious Rantaro  
** _I can make it. In daylight, too._

 

He could almost hear the chuckle he was sure that elicited, could almost see the crooked smile and the twinkle in Rantaro’s eyes. He was almost disappointed he wasn’t face to face with Rantaro again. His expressions had been something Shuichi wasn’t sure he’d ever find in another person.

They had been in equal parts slow, deliberate confidence, a measured intellect, and a hint of extensive knowledge that Rantaro seemed to want to hide. The challenge he had issued made more sense the more Shuichi thought about him and the way he behaved. It was almost as though it were a test. As though...Rantaro was trying to assess for himself the limits of Shuichi’s detective prowess.

He was sly, that much Shuichi was quickly learning. Whether or not he’d hit the right lead with Maki and Kaede’s help was irrelevant at that point. Were he to really consider his motivations, he would find that just as he was genuinely interested in Rantaro, it had been some time before he’d met someone who was willing to present a degree of challenge to figure out.

Not counting his work, much of his regular company were familiar. Open, honest people who trusted him. The fact that Rantaro defied the convention of telling even the most basic of information to someone he was interested in had piqued Shuichi’s interest even further.

He wasn’t a stranger to finding things out about people, but usually that was because they didn’t want to be found, or didn’t want to talk. In Rantaro’s case, it was just as deliberate, but it wasn’t to avoid punishment. Rather, it seemed as though Rantaro sought to issue Shuichi with that challenge because he had, in those moments, been able to tell precisely what kind of person would interest Shuichi the most. Someone who presented something of a challenge to understand. A puzzle within a puzzle, whose motivations the detective for once _couldn’t_ read at a glance.

Of course, Shuichi would only quietly admit he had been right.

So lost in his thoughts he had become, he almost didn’t notice the next message that came up on his screen.

 

**From: Mysterious Rantaro  
** _Sounds good, I’ll meet you at the bus stop by the corner at around...5pm?_

**To: Mysterious Rantaro  
** _Right. By the bus stop. At 5pm. See you there._

**From: Mysterious Rantaro  
** _See ya there, Shuichi._

_Don’t think too much about me in the meantime ;)_

 

Even in the darkness of his room, Shuichi flushed. Were they in high school again? Why was Rantaro using faces? Or, more to the point, why was he getting flustered over it? He scolded himself silently for acting like a blushing teenager again, but it didn’t change the fact that his cheeks were still warm.

His mind drifted, and he realised he was becoming tired. Strange, how talking to Rantaro was almost soothing. He wouldn’t entertain that train of thought tonight though, and sent off a quick ‘goodnight, see you tomorrow’ (electing naturally to ignore the second text that had come through) to Rantaro, though he fell asleep before he could see any reply.

 

And, not that he would admit it to anyone else, that night Shuichi’s dreams were filled with soft green curls, smiles that seemed to glow, and a warmth on his cheek.

 

**From: Mysterious Rantaro  
** _Goodnight Shuichi. Lookin forward to it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeehaw it's been 4 months. good to see everyone again.
> 
> sorry for making you wait so long. this isn't even the full finished chapter i literally just wanted to get something decent out into the wild again to make sure you hadn't all died in the time it took to find time to work on this.
> 
> rantaro will make a full bodied appearance next chapter. i'll try not to make you wait Four Months for the next one.
> 
> also shuichi's a dumbass don't agree to meet people alone you met at a bar the night before just because you think they're sexy.


	3. the lies we tell to ourselves, and the truths we feel in our hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mornings came with their own worries. For Rantaro and Shuichi alike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sort of a bonus chapter while i get back into the swing of things

Amami Rantaro awoke to the sound of his alarm beating noise from his phone’s speakers and rattling his mind awake. The first thing he registered was the way the sunrise streaming in through his windows had perfectly angled itself to blind him the second he opened his eyes. The second was his phone, pressed against his cheek and vibrating in time with the alarm - which, if he did say so himself, was the most irritating series of noises he’d had the misfortune of hearing.

He generally woke up with the sun, but with his unusually late night he was wise enough to recognise his future self’s need for an accompanying alarm. Working two jobs wasn’t easy, but Amami had never been the type to give up easily, and he had made the decision a long time ago to prove his point to his father - that he wasn’t going to rely on the money his elder siblings received. That he was going to make it on his own.

So far it had been futile, and his father had flatly refused to acknowledge his accomplishments on the sole basis of being stubborn.

With a sigh he cut his thought process off right there - no use getting hung up on things that can’t be changed anymore, after all. He switched the alarm off before it gave him even more of a headache and rolled out of bed, tugging on a shirt and heading for the kitchen.

His morning routine largely was decided the night before - he would tend towards ensuring everything that needed to be ready was ready; his clothes were laid out and typically he made sure that he had cleaned his dirty clothes away before he slept. This morning, however, the clothes he’d worn the day before were all over the floor, his bag was strewn across the floor, and everything was outside of its proper place.

As such, cleaning up his things (that in reality he should have cleaned up the night before, but for a reason he had yet to admit to, he was distracted from that task) left him alone to his thoughts in the silence of the apartment.

In as far as his life was concerned, Rantaro tended not to dwell on the things he couldn’t change, or the things it wouldn’t do good to think too hard on at this point. He lived by the rule that if he couldn’t change it actively, he shouldn’t worry about it.

For the past few years of his life, Rantaro had been living alone, without roommates, and while he was struggling to make ends meet he refused to rely on the wealth of his family. His father had never been interested in him, and when he had refused to bow to the will of his father and become a businessman like the rest of his siblings and spend his life in the shadow of his father.

Therefore, when he entered into a position where he could live on his own, he chose to.

His father had never believed he could do it, and though he had initially tried to convince him through words, his father flatly refused to see his side of things. As a result, he was under the impression he would only be able to prove both that his motivations were sound, and that he could make it alone through his actions.

He felt, commonly, compelled to prove himself to his father, and perhaps that was damaging for him, but Rantaro had always felt that he had something to prove. That he was more than he was given credit for.

Avoiding feelings of negativity weren’t all that easy for him, particularly when he was on his own like this. Often he wondered if his father was correct, after all, that he would never be able to make it on his own. He wondered if he could prove to his sisters that there was a life outside of reliance on the family, that there was a way for them to be happy without needing to stay in the good graces of the rulers of their family.

That kind of life was more stress than it was worth, and though Rantaro was acting as a test-run of sorts for this “branching out from the family” way of life, he felt as though if he managed to prove he could do it, his sisters wouldn’t have to rely so much on their family.

In a way, there was more pressure on his shoulders than he’d ever imagined there would be. He was hardly the eldest in the family, and his father had once accused him of seeking attention through this kind of thing, and there were times he wondered if it was a last-ditch attempt at finding some kind of recognition within the family despite being the youngest son.

Self-doubt was something that came naturally to Rantaro, and he could imagine that it came naturally to any son who was born the youngest as well as the most rebellious and active in defying the family tradition.

Which was why, when he saw that nervous, inappropriately dressed young man leaning against the counter at the bar, turning his hat over in his hands and fumbling with his fingers, Rantaro hadn’t been able to resist greeting him. In a way, that visible nervousness and that visible display of feeling out of place reminded Rantaro of a feeling he’d tried to bury deep in his heart.

Perhaps that was the reason he had moved so fast to secure a second meeting with Shuichi; he felt that they could help each other with their insecurities.

That wasn’t the only reason, though… the simple truth was that he was interested in the detective. There was a sparkle in his eyes when he spoke sometimes that enchanted Rantaro, and it was the same sparkle he could see in news interviews and could sense through articles and documentations of his words online or in the newspaper.

Meeting him in person had been a welcome surprise, and even with all of his doubts swirling around in his head, meeting that unassuming figure in the bar had lit some sort of spark in his heart.

Finding him cute had definitely had something to do with it, of course...

x x x

Halfway across the city, Shuichi was already up and mindlessly searching the cupboards for his coffee to make himself a warm drink to really shake his mind awake. The radio was playing a pop song quietly, just loud enough to stop him from falling back asleep where he stood, but sufficiently soft as to ensure he didn’t wake Maki and Kaede.

He was running on autopilot, and as he backed out of another cupboard unsuccessfully, having embarked on a search of the very far corners for his coffee, that became abundantly clear. Trying to straighten up too soon resulted in a loud bang as his head hit the top of the shelf above, jostling the items on it.

Under his breath he cursed; he had been trying  _ not _ to make noise, and in his attempts to follow what he knew, he’d wound up with a sore head. On the plus side, he supposed, at least he was actually consciously awake this time, rather than functioning on nothing more than habit and a drive for caffeine. Listening carefully for movement that would indicate he’d woken his friends, he waited for a few moments. When no sound came, his search resumed.

In the end, he found his beloved coffee buried at the back of one of the top cupboards, and inwardly he was glad that it at least wasn’t on the very top shelf. If that had been the case, surely he would not have been able to get it down without making enough noise to wake the girls.

With the jar in his hand, he turned to make his drink, his body rhythmically going through the motions while his sleep-addled brain decided to steer its train of thought towards the puzzle that was Amami Rantaro. Or rather, on what had been promised while he was half-asleep last night.

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind him startled him from his thoughts, and his fingers fumbled with the jar. Muttering a curse under his breath and sighing to himself as he spilled instant coffee all over the counter, he heard the familiar quiet laughter that belonged to Maki, and without turning around spoke to her, “I hope you’re going to help me clean up.”

Without missing a beat Maki replied smoothly, “Actually, I’m just about to head out to work.”

“Work? At this hour?”

“Yeah. I got a regular job. At last.” Was the simple response.

Quite frankly, Shuichi was surprised. Not that she had gotten a job, but that it had been regular. Maki had had a troubled childhood, and though she didn’t advertise that fact, as a close friend to she and Kaede, Shuichi was privy to a few of the secrets she kept, and though he promised not to spill them to anyone, he felt as though he was incredibly lucky. Harukawa Maki was not an easy person to get to know, nor was she easy to befriend, but somehow he had managed it, and as a result, he treasured her friendship.

She was as loyal as a dog to a fault, but with the aloof attitude that more closely resembled a stray cat. Kaede was far more energetic, but Shuichi felt equally comfortable in the company of both of them. With Maki, just as with Kaede, he felt he could let his true feelings reach his tongue, and could communicate them.

As someone who was usually alone, and didn’t have a particularly large network of friends. Of course, Kokichi didn’t count - Shuichi felt he couldn’t trust him to take a serious moment for what it was, and actually extend a hand to comfort him. Credit where credit was due, though, he had been useful on more than one occasion for allowing Shuichi to vent about whatever was bothering him over coffee in his apartment (though he called it his evil headquarters - still enjoying the facade of being the leader of an evil organisation, as he had since they were in highschool together).

“Are you heading out now?” Shuichi called over his shoulder, briefly turning his head to look back at Maki as he attempted to keep the conversation moving.

“I am.”

Shuichi hummed, “Can I convince you to wait for a few minutes? I’ll make you a coffee once I’ve cleared this up. Also, is Kaede up? I have to head to the office soon, and if I won’t see her before I leave, I’ll prepare a note to leave.” He heard a dry chuckle from behind him, and turned to look at Maki curiously; “Did I say something?”

“You think too much. Sure, I’ll take a coffee. And Kaede’s not up yet, so leave her a note on the kitchen if you’re leaving.” Maki wasn’t a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, so to get this kind of sentence length out of her was something of a wonder to Shuichi.

He watched her for a moment as he flicked on the kettle, observing how she was leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen, and quickly concluded that the morning saw a much softer version of his friend. Much more casual, and with less of a restriction on her body language. She seemed more open, and certainly she could simply have been comfortable around him as a close friend of hers, but Shuichi thought that surely in all those years of knowing each other, he would have known she could make such a relaxed expression before now.

Even when he had been sure she had been relaxed when their little group went out to a restaurant together, or when he watched her as she listened to Kaede play, there had always been a certain level of guardedness to her expression.

But now, in the light of the morning sun, she seemed almost peaceful, and somewhere in the back of his mind Shuichi wondered if it was that expression that told Kaede she was in love all those years ago. He wouldn’t be surprised. Even for a guy who had never swung her way, Shuichi thought she looked beautiful. 

Handing her the mug of instant coffee, and sipping at his own, they shared no conversation as they finished their drinks. Maki had never been particularly verbose, and it seemed that even as the morning greeted her with a smile, she remained the same stoic, quiet person she seemed to have always been.

Shuichi often wondered what her life would have become if she hadn’t met them - and what his would be like if he hadn't met her. She and Kaede had helped him more than he could express, and they continued to do so. Last night was the perfect example. They had no reason to try and help him as they had, but they did, solely because he was their friend, and they wanted to help. That alone touched him, and though he had to leave early today, he silently made a mental note to repay that kindness somehow.

But first, he had a day of work ahead of him, and then… somehow, he had to prepare for a date with Rantaro.


End file.
